


Prelude to Blackmail

by Kairyn



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Abbas Sofian Being a Dick, Abbas Sofian POV, Denial, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Period Typical Bigotry, Prelude to Blackmail, Slurs, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairyn/pseuds/Kairyn
Summary: Abbas is unhappy with Altair being Grandmaster. He's convinced that Altair is the enemy and is twisting the order. So when he stumbles across something that might give him an advantage over the Master Assassin, he's got to investigate it to be sure.Related to my story Refraction Error but can stand alone.
Relationships: Malik Al-Sayf/Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	Prelude to Blackmail

**Author's Note:**

> Be aware that this is written from Abbas' point of view. And he has some hangups. To put it mildly. He's going to be giving some serious mixed messages and spewing some vitriol about homosexuality. Be aware of that please.

Abbas grumbled to himself as he sat and glared out at nothing. He hated how things had changed. Altaïr had killed their Master, burned his body, and now had the entire Order under his control. It was ridiculous. The wind tugged at Abbas' robes. He was brooding in one of his favored spots near the top of one of the watchtowers. Not the highest point and sheltered from most sight due to how the stone had been carved. Really, it was the perfect place for Abbas to hide away from the others. Unlike their _Grandmaster,_ Abbas didn't have an unhealthy obsession with climbing tall objects. He didn't climb unless he had a damn good reason for it, like spying on a target.

That was why nobody ever expected to find Abbas up high. Abbas allowed his thoughts to circle around the situation and how much he disliked it. Perhaps a bit pointless, especially as he wasn't entirely sure how to fix the situation, but he couldn't help himself. Altaïr was, honestly, a bit terrifying. His skill with killing was not something that Abbas wanted to test by any stretch of the imagination. Altaïr was a cold, humorless man with no other interests but death and fighting from what Abbas could tell. There was a reason that the Eagle had been given leadership, after all. Nobody else had dared try and take the role with him around. If Altaïr had already killed their Master once, who's to say he wouldn't just do it again?

The attempt to use the Piece of Eden to fix the situation had blown up in Abbas' face, and he wasn't sure if there was anything else he could do to try and get the advantage. Not helping the situation was the fact that Malik was supporting Altaïr even though they had been at each other's throats after Solomon's Temple. Word was they still argued like cats and dogs, but Altaïr never seemed inclined to attack Malik. Even though Abbas imagined the Master Assassin would find killing the one-armed man easy. Perhaps Altaïr realized it would show everyone his true colors if he did that. As if they didn't already know.

Abbas still had to fix this somehow. Ideas were in short supply.

Abbas was sitting there unhappily for quite a while, watching people wander down below or practice their skills. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted movement much higher up. Abbas turned and saw a white-robed figure and another possessing only one arm through a window. The window was just across and a little below where Abbas was sitting. A moment of mental map-making and Abbas placed the room as the one that Altaïr had stayed before he'd murdered and replaced their Master. 

The pair of them just seemed to be talking, although why they would be doing it there, in a now empty room, Abbas couldn't begin to fathom. As he watched, Abbas tried to imagine what sort of plots the pair of them were coming up with. How they would scheme to take more power or ruin the Order from the inside. Abbas was sure that they were trying it, just not why or how. Altaïr had already proved his ill intentions, and Malik's support was just as damning in Abbas' eyes.

Then, Abbas saw Malik do something that nobody ever did. He pushed Altaïr's hood down. Abbas' eyes widened as Altaïr just allowed it as if he didn't constantly wear it up to hide his true thoughts and emotions. Malik's one hand then took Altaïr's face, and Abbas felt himself straighten even more as he watched the two men kiss. His jaw fell open as the pair embraced, and their kiss lingered. Abbas felt oddly shattered by the sight of the two of them, and he wasn't sure why. He should have realized that the pair were also deviant. But he hadn't, and this revelation was shocking on some fundamental level.

Abbas watched, eyes still wide and mouth agape, until Malik and Altaïr broke apart. There were a few other, shorter, kisses which sent little aftershocks through Abbas' brain. Then the pair left, entirely unaware of the chaos they had just caused.

After they had gone and Abbas realized the full implications of what he'd seen, he sat back against the tower. The shock was quickly giving way to anger. How dare they! Not only were they destroying the Order, but that too?! It was disgraceful and disgusting! Abbas punched the stone of the tower. The toxic mixture inside his chest burned and bubbled and made him want to lash out. He wouldn't stand for it! He couldn't! All decency said they had to be stopped and punished.

He had looked up to Altaïr once. The other boy had been so good at everything he'd done, and Al Mualim had favored him so obviously. They'd even shared a room at one point. But then the lies and schemes had started, and that admiration had quickly soured. Abbas thought the other Assassin couldn't fall any further, in his opinion. Apparently, he'd been wrong because there was still an odd sting of betrayal under the disgust and anger. Altaïr really was the best and the worst of them at the same time.

But, this was also the perfect thing to gain the upper hand. 

The other brothers would be just as disgusted to hear this about their Grandmaster and his second. They would kill them both for sodomy.

As Abbas got to his feet, ready to immediately tell everyone, he paused. He didn't actually know for a fact that they were committing sodomy. They had kissed in a way that was clearly romantic in nature. But, perhaps that was all they'd done. A lifetime of training meant to insist they be positive of their targets' guilt told him he should investigate further... Not that Abbas wanted to know for certain! But he wouldn't be much of an Assassin if he didn't do a complete job.

Abbas wasn't usually much for planning, but he knew he had to be careful as he sought his answers. He kept a close watch on Altaïr and Malik. Though the two of them were frequently seen together, he never caught them kissing again. Abbas wasn't deterred, however. The men had seemed too comfortable with it to have been the first time or even an infrequent lapse. No. Abbas was certain they were sharing a bed. He just needed a way to confirm.

A week went by before Abbas had an answer. Altaïr and Malik left Masyaf for a trip and said they'd return in two weeks. Abbas had no idea why they were going, and it didn't truly matter. The journey gave him the chance to follow, albeit he had to do it cautiously and go mostly by the tracks their horses left. It took two further days for him to be able to sneak close to their camp at night. He had nearly lost them due to the nearby river but luckily had found the trail again. Abbas stayed outside of the shallow cave that the two of them had decided to rest in and watched as they had dinner and talked around the fire. There was enough underbrush that between it and the dark clothing he was wearing, Abbas was nearly invisible. He was too far, and they spoke too quietly to hear what they were going on about, but he didn't think it really mattered. 

For a little while, Abbas thought that nothing was going to happen and began to second guess himself. But then he noticed that Malik and Altaïr had shifted closer to each other while sitting there. After what felt like hours crouching in a bush watching, Malik reached up with his hand to push Altaïr's hood back.

The firelight caught almost supernaturally well in Altaïr's golden eyes, visible even at a distance. The two men kissed and wrapped their arms around each other. Abbas grinned in the shadows as he watched the blasphemy being committed. What little doubt he had was wiped away in an instant. He had known the two wouldn't be able to resist falling into depravity with nobody around.

The kiss lingered and was followed with another. Abbas thought he saw Malik mutter something, but their mouths were too close to tell for sure. And the gap was closed again just moments later. Their foreheads came together for a moment between a few longer kisses, and Abbas realized that this was even better than he'd thought. The two men weren't just lustful for each other. They were somehow, impossibly, emotional about _another man_. Abbas was darkly amused and imagined how much better it was going to be to turn them in, knowing it wasn't just their bodies' twisted proclivities. 

Malik ran the back of his fingers across Altaïr's cheek and then pulled him close to kiss again. This time the kiss went on even longer and deepened. Their heads tilted, and their bodies shifted to allow for no gap at all.

Altaïr's fingers raked through Malik's short hair, and the Dai's one traced the dip of Altaïr's spine as their lips and tongues moved. Even from a distance, Abbas could tell that they were even using teeth as they kissed. Their hands continued to move over each other even as Altaïr broke away from Malik's mouth and let out a surprisingly loud noise that Abbas had never thought he'd hear the Master Assassin make. It was deep and heady and full of _need_. Altaïr was always so cold, and yet that noise was pure molten emotion that didn't seem possible from him. Abbas stared as Malik took the chance to molest Altaïr's throat with his mouth. 

Their lips came together again with fewer teeth and tongue, but their hands were still wandering the slight curves and planes of each other's bodies. The fire cast all of those planes into harsh relief and warmed the skin's tone as it was slowly exposed. Inch after inch of clothing was pulled away and dropped off to the side. Abbas watched with rapt attention as he noted every well-sculpted muscle and how the light bounced off of their skin. Another bit of cloth was pulled off and tossed away carelessly. There was slight sheen that was quickly starting to appear on Altaïr's back and shoulders that felt burned into Abbas' memory. Why did the man look so good, anyway? It was hardly fair. He should look ugly to match this depravity, not like a sculpted bronze statue that those Greeks were always so proud of. 

More skin was being exposed, and Abbas wet his lips as he watched Malik's hand stroke Altaïr's skin with far too much familiarity. Malik's shortened limb was a mess of scars and knotted tissue, and oddly so was Altaïr's upper body. His back had long white lines across it, along with the distinct arrow and sword wounds. Abbas hadn't thought that the legendary Eagle would have so many signs of injury on him.

Abbas noted each mark with his eyes and watched as Malik's fingers traced a particularly long, wide scar from Altaïr's shoulder down to his hip. The Grandmaster let his head fall away again as Malik's mouth trailed over now exposed and well-muscled shoulders. Altaïr's fingers ran down Malik's chest, pausing to circle his flat dark nipples for a moment and then going over each rib. Little gasps and moans were breaking past Altaïr's scarred lips as Malik mouthed his skin. Abbas could just hear them over the distance and the crackling of the fire. 

The spy shifted his position to be more comfortable as he watched Malik actually lick along the strong line of Altaïr's shoulder. Altaïr looked down at him, as he had risen up slightly onto his knees, and then ducked down to give the one-armed man a kiss. Malik's hand moved down Altaïr's back, which was starting to shine in the firelight with a faint sheen of perspiration. Malik's hand cupped Altaïr's still clothed backside, and Abbas leaned forward slightly, shocked that Altaïr was allowing such a thing. Abbas had been sure that Altaïr would never allow anyone to do something like touch his backside. He had assumed that Altaïr would insist on his subordinate unman himself. Malik's fingers dug into Altaïr's backside.

Abbas tore his gaze away from Malik's hand to where his mouth had returned to Altaïr's chest and was covering one nipple. Altaïr moaned, and his fingers tangled in Malik's hair again. Abbas let his eyes drift down and saw that Altaïr's pants had a distinct lump in them. He couldn't tear his eyes away for what felt like an eternity. Somehow, it hadn't set in until just then that Altaïr, perfect most beloved student, really was doing this. And not only was he doing it... he liked it.

Malik was rubbing over Altaïr's firm buttocks as his mouth continued to taste and caress every inch of his exposed chest. He traced every scar with painful care and slowness and left behind an even greater sheen with his mouth. Altaïr dipped his head, and Abbas could see him whisper something against Malik's ear. Everything paused. Abbas thought he heard Malik asking something about being sure, and Altaïr nodded before kissing Malik's temple.

Malik moved his hand from Altaïr's backside and shifted. Altaïr did as well. Abbas wasn't entirely sure what was going on, and then, to his utter shock, Altaïr lowered himself. Malik's belt and pants were undone, and his manhood sprung up proud and large from the gap. Altaïr didn't hesitate to drop almost entirely to the ground between Malik's legs and taking hold of Malik's sex.

Altaïr's fingers wrapped around the shaft and stroked long and slow. Malik leaned back on his one arm, using a pack to help support himself as he watched Altaïr with his darkly intense eyes. Altaïr stroked Malik some more and then tilted his head to bring his mouth to it. Abbas felt his breath catch as Altaïr mouthed at Malik's cock. Never had Abbas thought he'd see something like this. His own manhood was throbbing unexpectedly as he watched those scarred lips gently move, and Altaïr's pink tongue occasionally taste what had to be sensitive skin.

A groan escaped Malik as Altaïr seemed to take far too much time in acquainting himself with even the tiniest speck of skin in front of him. Abbas watched with rapt attention as Altaïr's hand dipped down to fondle Malik's balls while his lips kissed and teased. Malik's head had dropped back, and Altaïr's free hand worked to pull his trousers further down and out of the way.

Abbas shifted his weight uneasily and licked his suddenly dry lips as Altaïr kissed his way down Malik's shaft until he reached the glistening tip. And then Altaïr actually wrapped his mouth around it, and Abbas felt his own body react at the sight. He shouldn't be so enthralled, he knew that, and yet watching Altaïr do such a thing was so... he wasn't even sure what but he bit his lip to keep from accidentally making noise.

Altaïr was crouched down in the dirt with his mouth around another man like some common whore rather than the Grandmaster of the Assassin order. Abbas put a hand over his own crotch, which was showing through his pants as he watched Altaïr's lips stretch and mold around Malik's sex. Malik moaned something that sounded like Altaïr's name or at least half of it as the other man continued to lavish debase attention on his most intimate areas. Abbas rubbed himself as Altaïr's mouth sunk further down Malik's manhood only to pull back and then repeat the motion. Glistening moisture in the firelight was left behind as Altaïr pulled back, and he looked up at Malik.

Malik looked down between his legs and Altaïr, his lips damp, said something. Malik shifted to be more fully on the bag, and then he lowered his hand to brush his fingers across Altaïr's cheek. Altaïr's eyes fluttered closed, and he tilted his head to kiss Malik's wrist. And then he dipped his head to continue mimicking a woman with his mouth.

Malik let out another noise and tangled his hand in Altaïr's damp hair. Abbas could see a slight flex at the other man's hips, forcing his manhood deeper into Altaïr's mouth. Abbas rubbed himself more and wished Malik would do more. He could easily force his sex all the way into Altaïr's mouth and throat with his hand and hips, and yet he didn't. If Altaïr was going to willingly do such a thing, he should expect to be treated appropriately. Abbas would gladly make that arrogant bastard choke on his manhood. Abbas froze when he realized what he thought. He quickly shook that out of his head and stopped rubbing himself. This wasn't arousing! It was disgusting! Two men shouldn't be doing such things at all.

Altaïr let out a muffled noise. Abbas redirected his attention to see that Malik was tugging slightly on Altaïr's short hair. Oddly he didn't seem to be forcing Altaïr further down onto his cock or pulling him off. Just tugging occasionally and Altaïr would make a noise each time. After a few of these, Abbas realized that Altaïr was _moaning_ from having his hair pulled. Abbas felt his manhood stir again with interest despite telling himself he was just here to confirm what he'd suspected. Once he saw how far they went with each other for certain, he could leave. He wasn't watching because of any reason like interest or curiosity or jealousy or anything like that!

More and more of Malik's manhood would slip between Altaïr's stretched lips as the Grandmaster stroked and fondled what he didn't have in his mouth. Combing through the dark curls at the base of Malik's erection to cupping his balls. Abbas couldn't see all of what Altaïr was doing as Malik's strong thigh was blocking a lot of it, but Abbas' imagination was helpfully filling in the blanks. He could almost too easily imagine those long, strong fingers running along Malik's thighs and gently rubbing his testicles. That tongue that had lied to Abbas since they were children and now to the whole Order would feel like the most sinful silken thing against his aching cock. Altaïr's dirty mouth would be hot and wet, and Abbas would claim every corner of it with his manhood. 

Altaïr had his face buried, and when he pulled back enough, Abbas could see how wet his lips were. No doubt, not only from his own saliva. Altaïr's back and shoulders flexed as he swallowed Malik's manhood over and over again. Abbas shifted to his knees, which was more comfortable as he watched his once most admired fellows service a cripple in such a debased way. When Altaïr would moan and whine as his hair was pulled, it would be muffled around Malik's cock, but that wasn't the only noises being made. Quite a few were drowned out by the fire, but Abbas was positive he could hear the wet sucking and slurping noises of Altaïr's mouth working Malik's manhood. It was so disgusting but oddly difficult to pull his gaze from.

After another few moments, Malik pulled a little more, and Altaïr obediently moved away from the cock he'd been suckling like an animal. Malik dragged him closer and then kissed him. Altaïr was half sprawled on top of the reclining Malik as their lips moved. Malik lowered his hand to undo the ties of Altaïr's pants. Abbas found his eyes glued to the front of Altaïr's tented crotch.

Malik managed to get the ties undone and pushed the fabric down off of Altaïr's hips. Altaïr's manhood was fully stiffened from excitement, and Malik took it in his hand to stroke, causing Altaïr to let out the strangest noise Abbas had heard yet. It was like a moan crossed with a whimper, and it sent bolts of arousal straight to his groin. Abbas rubbed himself as Malik was rubbing Altaïr and found it very pleasing indeed. Altaïr also clearly liked it as more of those little whines would spill out from his scarred lips.

Abbas watched as Altaïr's pants were slowly pushed further down the strong columns of his thighs, and all of his intimate areas were on full display. Without realizing it, Abbas had worked his own hand under his pants as he watched Malik's calloused fingers work Altaïr's cock. Abbas had seen Altaïr's dick when they were children. They had shared a room for a brief time, after all. But he hadn't imagined that Altaïr would have ended up sporting between his legs. 

Altaïr wasn't the thickest in girth but wasn't particularly thin either. It was his length that was impressive, and as Malik stroked him more, Abbas couldn't help but try and gauge his own size compared to his rival's. Altaïr, much to Abbas' chagrin, did seem longer but was nowhere near as thick if Abbas did say so himself. In fact, he was sure that Altaïr would choke more than once, trying to suckle Abbas' cock like he had Malik's. The thought was pleasant, and Abbas stroked himself faster.

Malik's mouth was wandering Altaïr's shoulders as his hand stroked the Grandmaster's cock. Altaïr moaned and whimpered, arching up and letting his hands run all over Malik's body with clear reverence. 

Then, Malik's hand moved to wrap around Altaïr's thigh, and he pulled the other man gently. Abbas paused in his own stroking to watch as Altaïr shifted to straddle Malik with his pants around his ankles. Altaïr rummaged around in the bag that Malik was leaning against, putting himself in the best position for Malik to reach his chest again with his mouth while his hand massaged Altaïr's bare backside.

Altaïr moaned and whined while he was willingly molested. From inside the bag, a jar was produced and carefully put to the side. Abbas wasn't sure what was going on until he saw Altaïr remove the lid and dip his fingers into something thick and glistening like oil. Abbas felt his mouth drop open as Altaïr's coated fingers went behind himself and disappeared between his ass cheeks. 

Altaïr continued to whimper as his hand and wrist flexed behind himself. He dropped his head to rest it against the bag Malik was reclining against even as Malik himself peppered kisses across Altaïr's torso. Malik's hand was stroking Altaïr's hip and leg and occasionally his ribs but was letting Altaïr do all the work at his ass. Abbas didn't blame Malik for that. If Altaïr was doing what Abbas thought he was, the idea wasn't all that appealing to Abbas. He'd also make Altaïr do it himself. Then Altaïr only had himself to blame if, when he was getting fucked, it was rough.

Excess oil dripped down Altaïr's thighs, and the firelight made it glisten almost as if he really were a woman and eager to be fucked. Abbas watched Altaïr's hand move, and occasionally he could glimpse between those firm cheeks at the hole that Altaïr's fingers were disappearing into. The hole was a tight pucker, although shiny with oil as it was stretched around the fingers forcing their way inside. It was the lewdest and depraved sight that Abbas had ever seen, and knowing that it was oh-so-perfect Altaïr was delightful. If the others could see their Grandmaster now, they'd never make the mistake of respecting him again.

Malik tilted his head and caught Altaïr's gasping mouth with his own. The two of them kissed while Altaïr's hand moved with increasing speed and eagerness. Abbas stroked himself a little faster, the wetness building at his tip, making for an easier time of it as he spied on the two men. Altaïr went back for more of the grease to put more inside his hole and over the puckered entrance, and Malik kissed his way down Altaïr's gasping throat. 

Then, Altaïr pulled his hand away and sat up straighter again. Abbas watched as Altaïr got yet more oil and took hold of Malik's stiff length. Malik groaned as Altaïr stroked and fondled him with his slickened hand. " Altaïr..."

Altaïr said something back, but then Abbas watched in amazement as the Grandmaster shifted. Abbas' erection ached with renewed desire as Altaïr positioned himself above Malik's crotch, and willingly impaled himself on the one-armed man's thick manhood. Abbas nearly let out a noise but managed to bite most of it back, and the rest wasn't heard over Altaïr's own depraved moan. Malik clung to Altaïr's hip as his eyes closed in obvious pleasure.

Abbas couldn't help but imagine how tight and slick that hole had to be as he stroked himself. This was all he needed to see. Altaïr was clearly a sodomite. A very willing one at that. And yet, Abbas might be spotted if he got up and left right then. He couldn't just leave until he was sure they wouldn't notice. Altaïr's hips rolled, and his voice was a pathetic series of moans and whines that Abbas had thought impossible for him to make. Malik groaned as well, and before Abbas knew it, the two of them were moving.

Malik's hips and legs flexed as Altaïr's moved as if riding a horse, mostly using his knees and the strength of his legs to lift himself and then drop down again. Abbas could see Malik's cock for brief moments as Altaïr rolled his hips, but then it would disappear again into the Grandmaster's ass. Abbas couldn't look away as Altaïr acted so wanton in Malik's lap. Abbas even thought that he could hear the lewd, wet noises of their bodies as his hand sped up in his own pants.

Altaïr glistened in the slowly dimming firelight, and Malik was running his hands and mouth over every bit of exposed, damp skin that he could manage. Malik was not nearly as forceful as Abbas would like. If Altaïr was going to be acting like such a harlot, Abbas saw no reason not to treat him as such. Abbas would be pounding Altaïr hard so that he would learn just who was the one that was better. Abbas would never allow himself to be had in such a way, and here was Altaïr just offering himself up like the disgrace he was. No, Abbas would make Altaïr moan and whine and beg there in the dirt where he belonged.

The two of them continued to move together, muscles bunching and stretching and twisting in the most entrancing ways. Their mouths and hands skimmed along each other and occasionally caught at one another to linger in spots that would make the other moan or writhe. Abbas noticed that Altaïr seemed to have a particular fondness for his nipple being in Malik's mouth and fantasized about how Altaïr would whimper in the most pleasing way if Abbas were to bite the little nub.

Malik caught Altaïr by the back of the neck and pulled the other down into a heated kiss full of dueling lips and teeth. Altaïr whined. The awkward bent angle meant that Altaïr's hips moved in shallower angles, and his cock, standing so stiff in front of him, tapped his own muscular abdomen. Altaïr really was depraved to be enjoying this as much as he clearly was. Abbas was sure the Grandmaster would moan even louder when impaled on his impressive manhood. Abbas would make sure Altaïr wouldn't be able to sit down without remembering the man who'd fucked him. Abbas couldn't quite help but smirk at the thought of Altaïr in his office with a sore backside.

As the two leaders of the Order kissed, suddenly Malik flexed. Abbas was surprised but rather delighted when they were flipped, and Altaïr's back was pressed into the dirt with his legs up in the air. The Grandmaster quickly wrapped himself around Malik's waist as the one-armed ex-assassin started moving. Abbas could better see the flex of Malik's thighs in this new position and more of the ruined, perverted pleasure that crossed Altaïr's face.

Altaïr was staring up as if in awe at Malik and panting through his parted mouth even while rocking his body up to meet his lover. Malik thrust hard and quick up into Altaïr's body, and Abbas enjoyed watching Altaïr's body shudder and jerk but accept each ramming. Abbas would imprint Altaïr's ass into the dirt where it would be engraved forever with how hard he would fuck the other man. Abbas' hand sped up as he imagined those little whines and moans that Altaïr was currently making echo ten times louder through the cave. 

Malik dropped his head to kiss and mouth at Altaïr's shoulders while the Grandmaster's hands traced each slick curve of Malik's flexing muscles. The two of them were a tangle of sweaty limbs that used every shred of their lifetime of training to push each other faster and harder before pulling back into a far too intimate embrace. Abbas couldn't pull his eyes away from them and especially the expressions that would cross Altaïr's face. Somewhere between pleasure and pain all twisted up and occasionally mixed with other things that Abbas didn't have a definition for.

Abbas, if he shifted, could see Malik's cock disappearing into Altaïr over and over again. His hand sped up in his pants as he watched the manhood of Malik push through that shining ring of muscles that must be so very tight. So much oil had been used that the slide was made easier, but Abbas doubted it was entirely comfortable for Altaïr. Abbas could easily imagine how it felt to be in Malik's place currently. The tight, hot, wet body of Altaïr giving way to Abbas' thick cock. How he'd whine for more and cling as Abbas made sure every inch of himself was felt. Abbas felt his own excitement growing almost painful as he imagined how good Altaïr would feel, and his hand sped up a bit more.

The thrusts from Malik were strong enough to make Altaïr's manhood rub against their abdomens, spreading pale fluid in a messy pattern. Malik pulled at Altaïr to drag him up into his lap again. Altaïr went with the move with just a gasp but no protest. Altaïr wound himself around Malik and helped to bounce himself in Malik's lap again. Malik's one hand reached up to pull at Altaïr's hair, making the Grandmaster moan louder than before. A noise that sent pleasure right to Abbas' balls. Abbas pressed his free hand against his mouth to stifle the noises that kept trying to escape as he pulled himself fully out of his pants to stroke himself without restriction.

Altaïr rocked in Malik's lap like a common whore and whined each time Malik tugged on his hair or bit down on some sensitive piece of flesh. Little bruises from rough kisses and bites were starting to show across Altaïr's sweaty skin. Abbas couldn't pull his eyes away from Altaïr. The Grandmaster. The man Abbas once admired so much was a debauched, writhing creature drenched in desire and pleasure. Every expression on his face screamed how much he was enjoying it, and the smouldering look in his eyes was the most intensely erotic thing Abbas could imagine at the moment. His hand sped up even more as he watched Altaïr gasp and moan while he was fucked, and his hair pulled and bit by someone that wasn't even a full man any longer. Abbas would be able to do so much better. If Altaïr wanted to be manhandled and treated like a whore Abbas would be glad to do that. He'd have Altaïr whining like a bitch and begging for more even as his hips were bruised and his backside reddened.

Yes, Abbas would teach Altaïr just where his place was. Abbas let himself get lost in the fantasy for a moment as the two men he was spying on continued to make love to each other by the fire. Altaïr would have to work his hardest to please Abbas and only get the barest of rewards because the arrogant ass never had to work for anything. It seemed only just he'd have to actually work for his pleasure here. Altaïr's muscles and skills would benefit nothing as Abbas bent him over and fucked him so hard his knees bled. And because Altaïr was a sodomite, he'd no doubt love every second of the debasement.

"M-mal-lik..." Altaïr moaned, drawing Abbas' attention back to the present.

Malik murmured something against Altaïr's throat and tugged again at Altaïr's short hair. The Grandmaster whined and jerked in Malik's lap. Malik dropped his one hand from Altaïr's head to grasp hold of the man's dripping erection. Altaïr gasped and arched, unintentionally giving Abbas a better view. 

Malik's hand was fast as he stroked Altaïr's cock, helped along by how Altaïr was willingly bouncing himself in the one-armed man's lap. Altaïr was looking at Malik as if entranced and pulled at Malik's shoulders. Malik moved closer to kiss Altaïr again. Slowly they shifted back down so that Altaïr was on his back. This seemed to make it easier for Malik to move, and Altaïr squirmed in delight.

Abbas stared as Malik expertly played Altaïr's body into a tight bowstring of tension. He could see every tendon and muscle of Altaïr's form pulled tautly. Then, Altaïr cried out louder than anytime before. Abbas couldn't tear his eyes away as Altaïr spilled his seed uselessly all over himself. A few more strokes of his hand and Abbas wet the dirt beneath the bush with his own release just from how erotic a sight it was seeing his rival soiled in such a way.

Malik slammed his hips forward several more times before groaning out something that sounded like Altaïr's name. Abbas watched, panting into his hand, as Malik flopped down across Altaïr's dirty body. Abbas realized after a moment that Malik hadn't even bothered to pull away and had spilled his seed _inside_ Altaïr. That was oddly satisfying, and Abbas would have definitely done the same. He couldn't imagine a more unmanly thing than some other man putting his seed inside of you. Altaïr didn't even seem to mind, but then, why would a whore mind? Abbas nearly scoffed.

Then, Abbas went to put himself away and realized with disgusted sneer what he'd absentmindedly done. How sickening. There was nothing arousing about what he'd seen. Abbas wasn't sure what had come over him. He'd have to go find some pretty woman to fuck to get the sour taste of this out of his mouth. And he'd certainly never think about this again. He had his answer, and he'd just gotten caught up in the moment. That was all. He was no sodomite as they were. No. Abbas was perfectly normal. He'd found the answers he'd needed and could return to Masyaf and tell the others what he'd found.

There was shifting across the clearing, and Abbas looked up to see Malik slowly getting off of Altaïr. He didn't go far, however, and pressed a kiss to Altaïr's temple. Altaïr -cold, murderous Altaïr- actually smiled at him, and Abbas frowned in response. This whole emotional part was strange, and Abbas couldn't help but wonder just how deep it went. He should probably know before telling the other Brothers about this. Watching a bit longer wouldn't hurt anything. And it wasn't as if Abbas _wanted_ to see anything like what he'd just witnessed again. No, it was purely for information gathering purposes. After all! He'd only confirmed Altaïr had been sodomized by Malik. Abbas should make sure that both men were committing the crime to the same extent. It was his responsibility. That was all. Either way, he slunk out of the bushes when he thought they had both slipped off to sleep to return to his own camp.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, my head cannon for this is that Abbas has been pining so much on the low down for Altair since they were kids even he doesn't quite see that it's pining. Plus mixed with a healthy pile of self hatred and homophobia and other bad things... it's no wonder he's a complete mess. Still don't like the bastard but I do like making him pine for Altair...


End file.
